


Desperate Times

by sinspiration



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Caring, Double Penetration, Drug Use, Fluff, Kinda, M/M, Rimming, Stark Spangled Banner - Freeform, Totally consensual sleeping potion thing, so much consent you guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-19
Updated: 2012-05-19
Packaged: 2018-04-03 16:48:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4108000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinspiration/pseuds/sinspiration
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce was adamant. He had two lovers who constantly did their level best to boost his confidence, and he wasn’t able to spend time with them anymore. He couldn’t sleep in their bed, couldn’t lose himself to them, couldn’t appreciate their company, because he needed his energy to fight another mind. Besides, for all that he knew the other guy could be a monster, they were starting to be <i>good</i>. Both together and for the world. He owed the big guy a nap.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desperate Times

“You sure about this, big guy?” It's a question Tony’d been asking a lot, lately. By now Bruce didn’t bother to even speak, just offers his arm and nods.  
  
Of course he was sure. He’d been the one to approach Tony in the first place. To use his lab, materials, and mind, while keeping the project a secret from S.H.I.E.L.D.   
  
The secret was an important one. Bruce was gaining more control over when the other guy got out, but it was draining on the both of them. Bruce for needing to be constantly vigilant, and the other guy for only rarely now getting to stretch out. Bruce could feel him, awake and restless, a man-child locked in a little room with nothing to do but kick the walls.  
  
As far as Bruce knew, the other guy never slept except for right after a long rage where he was able to drain his near-boundless energy. That was the only time Bruce’s mind was quiet, for all that he was unable to enjoy the feeling in lieu of worrying over what the big guy had just done.  
  
But now all he was able to do was think, and try to concentrate while the other guy pounded away, worrying his lovers when he stopped sleeping, when Tony was the one to leave the lab first, when Steve came down at night to try to coerce Bruce into at least lying down.  
  
He couldn’t let himself relax, and so he left them to each other, and drank tea and meditated and dealt with both sides of him raging back and forth, and it was then that he’d thought of a solution.  
  
The other guy could do with a nap, he figured. Bruce had never-- _no_  one had ever tried to sedate him through Bruce. It had always been shots and tranqs trying to contain him, to keep him down, and fought viciously. That sleep was never the good kind, and whichever of them was the one to wake from it, the anger was always stronger. But a safe situation, that was something else. That was something new.  
  
That was a possibility.  
  
He’d approached Tony the next day, and the man had been fascinated but wary. Bruce had been more and more withdrawn of late, and Tony loudly expressed his concerns that this sedation was just a way for him to leave reality for good. It was only after a number of reassurances and Bruce's own explanations on a rough draft of the formula that Tony dove into the experiment. Steve took a little more convincing, even less happy than Tony had been, about Bruce essentially wanting to drug himself.  
  
But Bruce was adamant. He had two lovers who constantly did their level best to boost his confidence, and he wasn’t able to spend time with them anymore. He couldn’t sleep in their bed, couldn’t lose himself to them, couldn’t appreciate their company, because he needed his energy to fight another mind. Besides, for all that he knew the other guy could be a monster, they were starting to be _good._  Both together and for the world. He owed the big guy a nap.

It took weeks to develop the formula, longer because Tony and Bruce were taking every precaution with creating it. None of them wanted any chance for this way to keep Bruce and his friend under control falling into anyone else’s hands. Everything was destroyed as it was created, and Tony wouldn’t even let them log anything on his systems. With an apology to JARVIS, even the best computers could be hacked. Notes were written, memorized, then burned.   
  
The original idea for a simple sedation turned out to be less than simple, since it needed to target the other guy while, ideally, leaving Bruce conscious to enjoy it. It was Tony who finally, tentatively, suggested focusing on the gamma radiation in Bruce’s system as a way to reach the other guy, though it was Bruce who was able to figure out how to make it happen.  
  
All the while, Steve watched and listened and tried to understand as best he could. He got worried again, once the gamma suppression was mentioned. Bruce had to dose himself regularly to keep from being poisonous to other people, but this drug was meant to go deeper, to target not just Bruce’s body, but the being who shared it. They did their best to reassure him, and the work went on.  
  
So now, two months later, Tony was holding a syringe filled with the world’s only existing sample of the other guy’s sleeping potion, all ready for testing, and asking if Bruce was sure.  
  
Tony gives him a grimace of a smile, and lowers the syringe to Bruce’s skin.  
  
“Wait,” Steve says. He kneels in front of Bruce, taking one of his hands and gently kisses the knuckle. “Bruce, I…”  
  
Bruce gives him a small smile, pushing past the literal pounding in his head. “I know, Steve.” He runs his thumb over the back of Steve’s hand.  
  
“I just want it to work properly,” Steve says, sounding miserable.  
  
“Well, the time is right,” Tony said. “So let’s try, shall we?” Bruce clutches Steve’s hand as the drug is injected into his system, forcing himself to keep calm,  _this is good, this is all right, this is what I want._  
  
Steve and Tony move to sit on either side of Bruce on the exam table, it no longer even groaning after the reinforcements Tony had put in. They breath in sync and wait.  
  
Nothing happens for the first few minutes, and then Bruce feels the other guy lower his fists and blink slowly.  _We’re safe,_  Bruce continues to think, Steve and Tony warm, comfortable shields on either side of him.  _I’m with the people who make me happy, in no danger, and I’m. Not. Upset._  
  
He feels a dim response, barely a blip of thought, as the other guy curls up and makes himself comfortable.  
  
Bruce slowly raises a hand to his head and blinks.   
  
“How do you feel?” Tony asks immediately. “Any unwanted symptoms? Do you—”  
  
“Let him breathe,” Steve says, cutting Tony of. “Bruce?” he asked carefully.  
  
“Think it worked,” Bruce says. His responses were slower, the effects of a drug that needed to be absorbed by his own body to get to the being inside. “Feel muzzy, but good.” He smiles and turns into Tony’s neck, breathing in deep. “Feels good…I missed you, missed this.” He mouths a little at Tony’s neck, and Tony shivers, fisting a hand in Bruce’s hair and bringing him up for a deep kiss. It’s been so long, too long since Bruce was able to do anything with either of them, not willing in the last few weeks of experimentation to let any sort of intimate touch distract him, for fear he would lose his grip. Tony shifts and moves so that Steve gets a turn relearning Bruce’s mouth, and four hands are running over the planes of his stomach, his chest, his back, stroking his hair. Tony mouths at Bruce’s jaw while Steve kisses him breathless, and Bruce can only moan and hold on to the both of them.  
  
“Please,” Bruce manages, breaking the kiss to gasp out the words. “Please—I need you, need you both." He’s sensitive, from the drug or the flood after the desert, he’s not sure which, but he feels everything deeper, further into his skin than he can ever remember and he needs to kiss and touch and  _move_.  
  
Steve picks him up, and Bruce smiles up at him, winding his hands around his neck. Tony stands on his toes to kiss Steve as they cradle Bruce between them, and then it’s a matter of getting to the master suite as fast as they possibly can.

They collapse together on the bed in a tangle of limbs, Steve kissing Bruce down to the mattress while Tony strips, Tony taking over to suck at Bruce’s throat when Steve’s moves to shuck his own clothes.  
  
Bruce’s clothes they take their time with, batting his hands away when he tries to move to help, make it go faster. They work together, kissing and caressing every inch of skin as they slowly bare it, and Bruce is writhing under their hands by the time he’s fully naked. Eyes hazy, he moves to sit up, only to have Steve gently but firmly grab his wrists and press them down. Bruce arches up under the hold and Tony kisses him on the nose, chuckling.  
  
“Tonight it’s all you, big guy,” he says. “Let us savor, okay? We missed you.”   
  
“I was still here,” Bruce tries to say, a half-truth and he knows it, but he wants to say something even if his words are sluggish, and he shivers as Tony’s hands trail lower. “I—nnn…” Tony runs his thumb over the head of Bruce’s cock once more before lowering his head.  
  
The effect is immediate, Bruce’s body curling up, or trying to, while Tony has his hands on his thighs and Steve is behind him, pulling Bruce against his chest. Steve’s hands trail over Bruce’s torso, gently tipping Bruce’s head back to share a wet, messy kiss. The feeling of Tony between his legs and Steve’s warmth at his back is overwhelming. He isn’t going to last long and he tries to say something, to articulate this, prolong it somehow, for them, but he can’t—he needs—  
  
His breathe hitches when Steve tenderly bites his shoulder at the same time Tony sucks like he wants to pull Bruce out of himself, and jolts between them, the rush of emotions and feelings too much, too strong,  _control, control, control, please--_  
  
The other guy raises his head and Bruce has to stop himself from sobbing, trying to get his breath back to yell  _stop, stop, I’m sorry_ , when he realizes that nothing’s trying to shove him aside.  _Happy_ , the other guy seems to say.  _Warm. Don’t wanna smash it. Go play._  He gets the distinct feeling of a yawn in his head, and then blinks back to now. And blinks again.  
  
Tony has pulled off, and is staring up at him as Steve cards his fingers through his hair. When Bruce meets Tony’s eyes, he smiles.

“You back with us?” he says, teasing. “Paying attention again?”  
  
“How is he?” Steve asks.  
  
“Out of the equation,” Bruce says, and there’s wonder in his voice. His mind is already whirring through the fact that they’d communicated, positively, what can that mean, is it just the drug, was the drug simply a bridge, will he be able to do it again—  
  
“I think he needs something to snap him back to the present,” Steve comments, and Bruce mind catches up enough to process Tony’s smirking reply before the word shifts and he’s splayed on his stomach, legs pushed apart and something slick teasing his entrance, and that can only be  
  
“ _Tony_ ” the name barely recognizable through the groan, and he gets a laugh in reply before that tongue is stabbing  _in_ , the bedsheets too smooth to do anything but act as an added tease. He tries to move anyway, something  _anything_ , but Tony is holding his hips still, and a large hand is pressing down on his back, and Bruce turns his head to see Steve smiling next to him.   
  
“H-hi,” he breathes, and Steve strokes the side of his face.  
  
“Hi,” Steve says back, before slowly pushing his fingers into Bruce’s mouth.  
  
It’s something to  _do_  and Bruce sucks on them feverishly, trying to put everything he can into this when his body so hot, Tony’s tongue sending pleasure shooting through his spine, and Steve just watching, gaze so focused, so intense, on Bruce’s mouth stretching around his fingers, closing his eyes for just a moment and it’s  _bliss_.  
  
He moans around Steve’s hand and watches blearily as Steve shudders just for that, and then Steve is pulling his fingers back and Tony is moving away, before the two roll him over onto his back again.  
  
Steve kisses Bruce deep before moving away, Tony taking his place to push a hand into Bruce’s hair and devour him, body coming up to cover Bruce’s own, finger’s lacing as he nips and sucks at Bruce’s ears, his collarbone. Even with this distraction, he’s hyper aware of Steve nudging his thighs apart, the distant sound of a cap opening before one slick finger presses at his entrance before pushing carefully in.

Bruce wraps his hands around Tony’s back and pulls him closer, squashing himself under the other’s body until Tony slides down, a sharp, hot mouth on his chest making it so that Bruce barely feels the burn when Steve adds a second finger.  
  
It’s only pleasure now, all over and inside of him and he’s gasping constantly, through their ministrations, trying to make himself coherent enough to moan their names, to beg them to just  _take him_  already, when Steve wraps his lips around Bruce’s cock and crooks his fingers inside of him and Bruce whites out.  
  
When Bruce comes back to himself, the only things he can manage to be aware of is Steve still moving his fingers steadily in him, three now, from the fullness, and Tony against his side, hot and hard.  
  
Bruce whimpers and reaches for Tony, wanting-- _wanting_  and Tony laughs, though its strained with need and asks,  
  
“Steve?”  
  
“I’m fine,” Bruce babbles, “I’m ready, please, please, need you,” and this is what sends the other two over the edge, to see Bruce losing control, begging, when he normally fights to be silent, all short gasps and tiny moans.   
  
“Hands and knees, Bruce, can you do that for us?” Steve murmurs, pulling out of him, and Bruce nods and whimpers again because anything  _anything_ he just needs to be touched by them, filled by them, still high on having this at all.  
  
They help pull in him into position, supporting him between them with his body still limp from orgasm. He only has to say  _please_  again before both are pushing in, careful, always careful. Bruce doesn’t know how they can stand it until he realizes that the hands holding him are shaking with the effort of keeping still.  
  
He manages to set a hand on Tony’s thigh and squeezes, and then they’re finally moving, over him and in him, clumsy with desperation before setting a rhythm of short, sharp thrusts. Bruce is so full, the slap of skin against skin adding another layer of  _here_. He moans around Tony’s cock, swallows and tries to use his tongue before squeezing Tony’s thigh again, glancing up at him.  _Use me, I need you_. Tony’s pupils are blown, and he shoves a hand in Bruce’s hair, pulling him in and in as Steve switches to long, slow thrusts that  _move_  him. All Bruce can do is take it, take them, let them  _have_  him and he lets out a choked sob around Tony because they’re everything.  
  
Steve suddenly reaches down and gives Bruce a gentle squeeze. He’s half-hard again and Steve presses a kiss between his shoulder blades, smiling against his skin, before pulling out completely. The loss is  _awful_  and when Tony moves to do the same, Bruce hears himself whimper again.  
  
“Not done with you yet,” Tony pants. His eyes are bright, hair stuck to his forehead, and gorgeous, gorgeous. He must be  _aching,_  but he squeezes himself hard and then shoves Bruce at Steve. “It’s everything tonight,” Tony says. “Celebrating the  _world_.”  
  
“And you,” Steve adds, wrapping his arms around Bruce so that they’re chest to chest, then laying down on the bed, Bruce covering him like a blanket that’s slightly too small. Steve doesn’t seem to mind, just goes in for another kiss, this one hot and hard with the added edge of desperation and need. “Love you,” Steve groans, over and over again as he nips at Bruce’s mouth, worrying the bottom lip with his teeth before licking his way back inside.

The sound of the cap again, and Tony’s slick fingers are back at Bruce’s entrance, four pushing in, opening him up more, and Bruce realizes what they want to do, jerking his hips to help, to make this  _happen_. Previous attempts had been too overwhelming, to close to pushing Bruce over the edge, but now,  _now_  
  
“Slide back for me,” Tony says, and Bruce obeys, the three of them moving so that Bruce is impaled on Steve’s cock again, before Tony’s hand is on his back, pushing him forward to lie fully on top of Steve.  
  
“You’re so good,” Tony murmurs, adding a finger alongside Steve’s cock and starting to move it in and out. “So good, so good for  _us_  and we need you, you’re going to feel this, both of us in you,” his voice is strained but his hands are gentle, and when he adds a second finger both Bruce and Steve groan, Steve thrusting up once before growling and stilling his hips, mouth latching on to suck feverishly at Bruce’s neck, hands moving mindlessly up and down his body.  
  
When Tony adds the third finger Bruce can’t stand it anymore, its not enough, too much and he cries out, the sound choppy. “Please please  _please_  I’m ready I can take it,” Steve clutches at him to keep from moving past the tiny twitches in his hips and Bruce runs out of air to beg, but Tony finally, finally thinks he’s stretched enough and removes his fingers, and then a hot, blunt heat is pushing in next to where Steve is already buried, and Bruce thinks that he’s going to die.  
  
Bruce can feel Tony shivering with the effort to go slow, to be careful, but it’s still almost too much. He buries his face in Steve’s neck and tries to breathe through it, gasping at the feeling of being stretched so impossibly full.   
  
It’s ages later when Tony is fully seated, holding himself still and barely breathing.  
  
“How—how you doing, big guy?” he grits out, because he has to make sure Bruce is okay. Steve is clenching one hand in the sheets, knuckles white from the effort to not move, and other resting on Bruce’s neck as they wait and wait and try not to go crazy.  
  
Bruce tries to get control of his erratic breathing, half-succeeding and only thanks to years of practicing calm. Tries to adjust, breathes again, and, when he feels he’s good enough, clenches. Tony groans, blunt nails scrabbling at Bruce’s back while Steve growls underneath them, hips twitching before he can stop himself. Bruce can’t place the feeling, not quite pleasure, not quite pain, but knows what he  _wants_ , and he clenches again. “M-move,” he manages.   
  
It’s all the permission they need. Tony moves first, snapping his hips shallowly in and out, the friction inside Bruce and against Steve a tight coil inside of him, and soon they’re all rocking together, a new rhythm that matches how frantic the moment’s become.  
  
Tony reaches forward to stroke Bruce in long, twisting pulls, and Bruce can feel himself teetering on the edge again. So far gone when the second orgasm takes him that it’s mindless, Tony and Steve following soon after, and he’s just so  _full_.  
  
They stay together for another minute just breathing and then Tony carefully pulls out. Bruce can’t move, so Steve slides him forward until he’s out as well, and then Bruce slumps on top of Steve, who can take it, Tony stumbling forward until he falls over next to Steve, one arm flung over the other two.

Eventually Bruce moves, just a little, to push his hair out of his eyes, and his hand is shaking hard, like his body can’t quite believe what happened. His brain is only barely caught up, and it isn’t until Steve links his fingers around Bruce’s own that he realizes he was staring blankly at them.  
  
“How do you feel?” Steve murmurs.  
  
“Like I can’t—think,” Bruce says, after a moment. “I’m—that was—”  
  
“Fantastic,” Tony says drowsily. “We will be doing this again. Preferably repeatedly.” He falls silent for a few seconds, and then rolls his head to the side. “Hey, JARVIS.”  
  
“Yes, sir?”  
  
“Fill the bath.”  
  
“Of course, sir. Anything else?”  
  
Tony blinks. “Yeah. No calls for the next…six hours.”  
  
“You’ve already had them blocked for the last twenty-seven hours, sir.”  
  
“I see no problem with this.”  
  
“Tony,” Steve says. “What if it’s important?”  
  
“Ruining the mood, Steve.”  
  
Bruce makes an incoherent sound and pushes his face against Steve’s neck. Tony turns enough so that he can stroke Bruce’s back with one hand.  
  
“Sir?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Your bath is ready.”  
  
“…how the fuck it takes way longer for that thing to fill up.”  
  
“Well yes, sir. I’ve had it ready for the last twenty minutes.” JARVIS sounds as smug as an AI can sound. “I merely needed to check to make sure it was still the right temperature.”  
  
“Okay.” Tony says. “That’s awesome.” He doesn’t move.   
  
“Give me another minute,” Steve mumbles.  
  
They end up drowsing for a lot longer than a minute, but eventually they move to the bathroom to clean up. Bruce is still shaky enough that walking is a problem, but Steve manages well enough (Tony  _helps_ ) and soon they’re all sitting in the perfectly warmed water.  
  
Since Bruce looks like blinking is an effort and Steve was the one who carried Bruce to the bathroom, Tony takes it upon himself to get everyone soaped up and rinsed off. There’re all holding each other and keeping close even though the bath is huge, and have to remember how to move again once Tony’s assured himself that they’re all clean.  
  
They all sit together on the edge of the tub to dry off, using the towels on each other instead of on themselves. Bruce fights to help with that, and he smiles softly as he scrubs the towel over Steve’s hair, wipes the moisture from Tony’s shoulders. Tony smiles back, and he doesn’t care if it’s soppy because he is Tony fucking Stark and he just had the most amazing sex with the two most amazing men in the world and fuck it he can look soppy if he wants to.  
  
They stumble back to the bedroom again, Steve stripping off the top sheet in two quick pulls and throwing it to the floor, and then they just fall down, curling up together in a slightly damp pile. Bruce is nested between them, Steve of the left, Tony on the right.  
  
Bruce is dozing off to the mental notes he’s making about writing down effects and reactions and tests to do a few hours later when he feels something poking at the back of his mind, as if it’s asking for permission.  
  
_Were loud._  Hulk says.  _Slept anyway. Still sleeping. You too._  
  
And Bruce finally does, knowing exactly who and what he’s going to wake up to whenever tomorrow comes.


End file.
